


However Long the Night, the Dawn Will Break

by Gypsyfire1066



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, could be traumatic, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5401052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsyfire1066/pseuds/Gypsyfire1066
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My contribution to the post 4.09 fics</p>
            </blockquote>





	However Long the Night, the Dawn Will Break

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer- characters are the property of DC comics and the CW.

Darkness. 

His world had been covered in darkness for thirty-five hours. 

And counting.

Oliver sat beside Felicity’s hospital bed, fingers gently caressing her hand, silently begging her to wake up. She couldn’t die. Not like this. Not before they’d even begun their life together. 

He had been beside her ever since she was released from surgery. He hadn’t slept. He’d barely eaten. He changed into the clothes John had brought, scrubbing her blood off in the shower of the small bathroom attached to her room. 

He was so tired. But he refused to give in the exhaustion running through his body. Sleep would never come anyway, his mind just kept playing out the horrific night over and over.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
37 hours earlier…

“Felicity! Honey…” Oliver yelled, stumbling as he raced to the door. “Felicity! No!” he cried when he opened the door, her lifeless body falling out into his arms. He grabbed her, pulling her against him as his hands slid over her body to access the damage. His hand slid through the familiar warmth and sickness of blood when it ran over her stomach. 

“Felicity!” he said, frantically searching for a pulse.

He found one. It was weak, but beating. Pulling out his phone while still cradling her, he called John. “John!” he said as soon as his friend answered. “She’s been shot… Felicity’s been shot! Darhk attacked, I… couldn’t get her away. They’re still out there, I need back-up! An ambulance. Now!”

“Where are you?” John asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Oliver replied looking around. “We’re only a few blocks away,” he said, unable to focus, to find some identifying marker, hand pressing down on Felicity wounds.

“Someone call 911! Lance! I need police, Oliver and Felicity were attacked.”

“Oh, my God! My baby!”

“On it.”

Screaming. So much screaming.

Oliver heard it all through a fog. Digg calling for help. Donna wailing. Quentin jumping to action. 

But none of it mattered. All the mattered was Felicity’s life draining away as he held her. “Felicity, hang on honey,” he said, willing her to fight. “Help’s coming. They’ll be here any second.”

The sound of a gun cocked behind him drew his attention. “A little optimistic don’t you think, Mr. Queen?”

He turned around, shielding her body. “I swear to God I’m going to kill you!” he snarled at the two ghosts pointing guns at him.

They laughed. “You’re really not in a position to be making threats!”

Oliver closed his eyes, holding Felicity tightly to him. “I love you baby. I’m sorry I wasted so much time,” he whispered, waiting to hear the guns. 

Waiting for the bullets to pierce his skin. 

Waiting to die. 

Instead, he heard sirens in the distance. He looked up, hopeful.

“Hurry up!” one of the ghosts said. “We have to finish thi-”

Screeching tires distracted them, drawing their attention to a black van barreling down the street. It hit them at full speed, running them over before they had a chance to run. 

“Thank God,” Oliver sighed, head slumping in relief. 

John and Thea jumped out, running behind the van to restrain the ghosts. “You sick sons of bitches!” Thea yelled, the sound of flesh on flesh being drown out by the approaching sirens. 

“My baby!” Donna wailed as she jumped out of a police car, running to where Felicity lay on the ground, cradled in Oliver’s arms. 

“I couldn’t protect her,” Oliver said his voice thick with emotion. He grabbed Donna’s hand, transferring some of Felicity’s blood onto her mother in the process. “I tried! I had to leave her… to get away… the driver was shot. I…God forgive me!” he said, his eyes begging Donna to forgive him. To understand. 

“Is she alive?” Donna asked frantically.

Oliver nodded. “Barely,” he said clutching his jaw, trying to contain the emotions running through him at seeing Felicity lifeless, holding her bullet pierced body in his arms. 

This was worse, so much worse than anything she’d been through before. She’d been unconscious after the explosion on their first date, but that had just been a bump on the head. She hadn’t even needed to go to the hospital, not that he hadn’t tried to take her. But this… this was so much worse. He saw at least two bullet wounds, but he knew there could easily be a dozen more. His hands tried to stop the flow of blood, but there was too much. “Felicity…please,” he said.

“Yes, baby. Hang on. We have a wedding to plan! Flowers to pick, a date to argue over. Baby, come on. Fight!” Donna cried next to him, her inexperienced hands joining his to try and stop the bleeding.

“Coming through!” one of the paramedics said, pushing through the small crowd that had gathered. “We’ll take it from here sir. Charles right here is going to check you, make sure you’re ok,” he said, pointed to someone behind Oliver.

Oliver stumbled backwards, Donna next to him. “No. I’m fine.”

“Please, sir. We need to check you.”

“No! Focus on her. I’m fine,” he ground out.

The paramedic nodded. “Ok,” he said walking away, issuing orders to the new responders on the scene.

Silently Oliver watched them work on Felicity. 

“Breathing…pulse weak…BP dropping. Oxygen... OK, let’s stabilize her neck. We’re ready for transport. Call ahead, multiple GSW’s to the abdomen, one through the shoulder.”

Once Felicity was on the gurney, Oliver and Donna followed the paramedics as they headed toward the ambulance. “We’re going with her,” Oliver announced, his voice rough and dangerous, allowing no arguments.

“I’m sorry sir. There’s no room. We’re taking her to Starling General, she’s in the best hands possible,” the lead paramedic said, compassion in his eyes as he watched Oliver and Donna.

“I got it,” Quentin said coming over just as Oliver was about to argue, holding him back. “I’ll take them.”

Donna reached for Quentin. “Thank you,” she said tears running down her face. 

“I can’t leave her…what if something happens?” Oliver said struggle against Quentin’s hold. 

“There is nothing you can do to help her now Oliver. You’ve done the best you could, now it’s their turn. You don’t want to be in the way.” Quentin put his hand on Oliver shoulder. “Best let them do their job. They’re good at it.” Quentin walked away, leading Donna over to his car. “Oliver!” he called as the ambulance drove away. “We’ll get there at the same time.”

True to his word, Quentin pulled in right behind the ambulance transporting Felicity.

Oliver was at her side, reaching for her hand, the second the paramedics unloaded her. 

He followed them as they rushed her inside, to an exam room, hearing but nor comprehending all the talk going on around him. 

He watched as they cut away her dress, revealing not two, but three gunshot wounds to her stomach. “Oh, God,” he moaned. It physically hurt him to see her tender flesh torn, blood oozing down her soft skin.

He prayed as they hooked her up to the machines, hearing the erratic beat of her heart. 

Hearing it coming to a stop.

“No! Felicity!” he screamed, lunging forward, pushing his way to her side. “Felicity!”

“Security!” one of the doctors yelled as the orderlies and nurses tried to restrain him. “You need to get out, now!”

“No!” Oliver replied shaking his head, muscles bulging as he struggled to get back to her side as they began CPR on her, not noticing the three security guards who had come into the room grabbing at him.

“Let us do our job Mr. Queen. You cannot help her. You need to leave. Take him to the waiting room,” he told the security guards.

Oliver began fighting again, knowing he could overpower them, not willing to leave Felicity’s side.

“I got him,” John said coming into the room, clamping a hand on his shoulder, nodding to the security guards that he would take it from here. 

Once he was released, Oliver shook off John’s hand, again pushing towards Felicity. “I’m not leaving her side John!” He looked wildly about the room as the security guards grabbed his arms again.

“Stop it man! You aren’t helping her!” John said banding his arm around Oliver, dragging him backwards. “Now let’s go. Or I’ll let them sedate you,” he said, head nodding to the doctor coming at him with a syringe. 

Oliver tried fighting, but John was having none of it, his arms like steel around his chest. With one final glance back at Felicity, he allowed John to guide him to the door. The sound of the heart monitor evening out to a normal cadence pierced through his skull. Turing around, he met the doctor’s eye. 

Hope. 

He exhaled heavily and leaned on John. He noticed the state of his clothing as they walked down the corridor to the waiting room. The drying blood turning brown, hardening the fabric. 

“I brought you a change of clothes,” John said, seeming to know exactly what he was thinking. “I grabbed your bag while I was at the Foundry.” 

“What?” Oliver asked, blinking in confusion. 

“Thea managed to get to one of the ghosts before he could use his cyanide tooth. We took him back to the Foundry, for all the good it will do us. These guys don’t talk. And nothing seem to make them.”

Oliver shook his head absently. “Ok,” he said pushing open the door to the private waiting room they were directed to.

Donna threw herself into his arms the second he made it through the door. “How is she! Is she ok? Please tell me my baby is ok!” she said through tears, her mascara running down her face in long black tracks. “No one would tell Quentin anything,” she said frantically gesturing back toward him. “He tried, but they assured us the doctor would be in soon.”

“I don’t know” Oliver said. “She flat lined.”

“Oh God!” Donna said, hands to her mouth, fresh tears running down her face. “My Baby.”

“Oliver… there’s a bathroom through there if you want to get cleaned up while we wait,” Quentin said after a moment, pointing to a door to Oliver’s right.

“Yeah. Ok,” he said nodding as he walked toward it.

John held up a bag. “Your clothes. There’s a shower in there.”

Oliver shook his head. “No, I can’t take that long. Just give me a minute.”

Closing the door quietly behind him, Oliver turned the water on as hot as it would go. Waiting a second for it to heat up, he took a glance at himself in the mirror. Gone was the happiness from earlier, from asking Felicity to marry him. God, was that only a few hours ago? It seemed like a lifetime ago. 

Putting his hands under the scalding water, Oliver scrubbed his hands. The water turning red with her blood. “Why?” He cried out trembling. Rubbing harder, he clawed at his hands, desperate to clean Felicity’s blood from his skin, gouging his own palms in the process.

Agony like he’d never felt before consumed him. Clenching his hands, he hit the counter, relishing the physical pain if it would ease the pain in his soul. The image of Felicity, lying bloodied, dress cut open, bullet holes riddling her body, flashed through his mind. 

He hung his head, willing himself to pull it together. For Donna at least. She didn’t know why her daughter lay near death. Didn’t realize he was the one to put her there. 

Not bothering to change into clean clothes, Oliver splashed cold water on his face. Realizing he had scratched his hands, he left them under the running water for a minute. Turing the water off, he grabbed a wad of paper towels, pressing the firmly into his hands to staunch the bleeding. Satisfied his hands were no longer oozing blood, he took a deep breath, gave himself a loathing look in the mirror, and went back to the waiting room. 

Waiting to see if Felicity lived.

Or died.

Five hours, twenty-seven minutes and nine seconds passed before the doctor came in. 

“Mr. Queen, Ms. Smoak,” he said shaking their hands. “I’m Dr. Cortin. I apologize about earlier Mr. Queen, but well…” he said.

“Its fine,” Oliver replied, saving the man from fumbling for a diplomatic way of telling him he had behaved like an ass. Felicity would just come right out with it he thought wryly. “How is she?”

“She made it through surgery with no complications.”

Donna clasped her hands. “Thank God!” 

“The bullet in her shoulder went clean through, minimal damage. One in her abdomen did the same. Lucky on that one, it barely missed her liver. The other two did some damage, one to the small intestine and the other nicked an artery. Both have been repaired. She’s in recovery now. I’ve put her in a private room.” Dr. Cortin said. 

“Will she be ok? Will she live?” Donna asked.

Oliver closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the answer. Donna asked the very question that plagued him. The one he didn’t have the courage to ask. 

“The next twenty-four hours are critical. I’m optimistic though. She’s young, the bullets avoided major organs. She did flat lined again during surgery though.”

Oliver clasped his hands, bringing them in front of his mouth, taking a deep breath. “Thank you doctor.”

“I’ll have the nurse show you to her room. She’s a fighter, must have something worth living for,” he said with a smile at Oliver as he reached into his pocket.

Extending his hand, Oliver felt a slight weight as something warm dropped into his hand. “Thank you,” he whispered as his fingers closed tightly over Felicity’s engagement ring. 

“Keep that safe for her, she’s going to need it,” Dr. Cortin said as he left.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
A slight stirring sound alerted Oliver to movement. Raising his head, his eyes collided with Felicity’s eyes. 

Blue.

Open.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Oliver said, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Felicity reached for him slowly, hand cupping his face. “It’s gonna take more than that to get rid of me,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s not funny, Felicity! You died. Died! Because of my choices.”

“No!” she said. “Because Damien Darhk is a monster. You had no other choice. And I agreed with you. Still do. My life, my choice. How many times are we going to have to go over this?” she asked weakly.

Oliver swallowed hard, raising her hand to his lips. “Every time you get hurt I expect,” he said pressing a kiss to her palm. “And just because you’re right doesn’t mean I’m not going to panic. Every time something happens to you Felicity. I can’t help it.”

“I know,” she whisper, sleep closing in fast. “Now, where’s my ring? I need it back before you talk yourself out of marrying me because of the danger,” she said, eyes closing, breath evening out as she fell asleep.

“Never,” he assured her, laying his head down, letting exhaustion finally claim him. 

Outside, the sun, just beginning to rise, cast a faint ray through the window, shining on their entwined hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I didn’t mess up the medical stuff too terribly!  
> I know there are a ton of post 4.09 fics out there, all of them probably much better written than mine, so thanks for reading!


End file.
